


The Secret of Happiness

by Peapods



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-12
Updated: 2013-11-12
Packaged: 2018-01-01 07:40:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1042166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peapods/pseuds/Peapods
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are several ways in and out of Neverland, but this is one even Emma knows.</p>
<p>Set in the amorphous future when they are leaving Neverland. Known canon slightly twisted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Secret of Happiness

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, so sentimental, I'm almost ashamed. But they make me as gooey as a marshmallow.
> 
> Un-betaed.

“Well, I'm glad we wasted all this time getting back to the ship _without_ Pan's shadow to bargain our way out,” Regina groused. "Let me tell you how much I've always wanted to be a pirate. Although the never aging thing is fairly appealing."

“We need another way,” Gold agreed. They began to confer in hushed tones. 

“You have to believe!” Henry piped up. “If you don’t believe, nothing will happen.”

“Aye, the lad is right,” Hook agreed from the helm. He led them out of the cove into the open ocean. 

“I think you can trust that two powerful magic users believe, dearie,” Gold sneered.

“It’s not just a matter of magic,” Henry argued.

Emma listened to all of this with half an ear, already too tired to deal with another argument and another setback. She crossed her arms on the railing and let her head fall onto her forearms. She felt the unmistakable presence of someone behind her and immediately tensed. She stood up, ready to tell Neal or David or Mary-Margaret off, but it was none of them. Hook was standing there, hand held out expectantly.

“I’d like to try something,” he said softly, so the others, still arguing, couldn’t hear.

“Hook,” she sighed. He only raised an eyebrow. She let out another sigh and took his hand, allowing herself to be led to the helm. He placed her hands at ten and two.

“Close your eyes and listen only to me, can you do that?”

“Hook--”

“A little trust, darling,” he said quietly, sincerely. She recalled him saying something similar when they first met, but this statement held none of the mischief that she’d detected then.

“Okay,” she said quietly, closing her eyes. 

“Deep breaths, smell the sea air,” he said.

She breathed deeply through her nose, feeling a little more awake--despite her closed eyes--as the salt and brine filled her senses.

“Feel the way the ship is pulled by the current, how you steady it with the helm.” 

She let herself sway with the ship and pushed this way and that on the helm to steady them.

“The wind is at our back, blowing us out to sea.”

He had moved slightly to the side and she could feel the wind through her sweater. She shivered a little.

“It’s so easy to become a part of her, isn’t it? To feel anchored in the wood, in her bob and sway. Your boy has his sea legs too. He’s smiling, happy. You saved him, Emma, as I knew you would. We’re going home where you will see your friends, where your family will be safe. Where you can bathe and have a change of clothes,” his voice twitched with amusement. “Away from Pan’s machinations, away from uncertainty. You can be happy.”

Her eyes were burning behind her lids as she listened to him. An indescribable pressure was building in her stomach, something like butterflies and the warm buzz of whiskey and the pleasant fullness of a good meal, but so much better. 

“Feel the wind, Emma. It’s almost as if it could lift you up into the sky.”

“I feel it,” she whispered.

“Do you believe you could? If you wished hard enough?”

“Yes,” she whispered again and she could feel the longing in it. Her heart contracted and expanded and it was almost painful, the faith and the thoughts he whispered to her. 

“Open your eyes, Emma.”

She opened them and gasped. The Jolly Roger was _lifting out the water_. The lines of her rails and her sails gleamed gold and purple as she rose seamlessly from the water and took to the sky.

“Mom! You did it!” Henry screamed, voice cracking. He and Wendy were jumping up and down, trying to catch the golden motes that fell around them.

“Holy shit!” she said in a high, breathy voice. She gripped the helm almost helplessly. 

“To have faith, darling, is to have wings,” Hook said quietly, before noticeably taking a step back. Everyone below was jumping and celebrating. Well, almost everyone; Gold and Regina were standing flabbergasted.

Emma looked at Hook, “I did it.”

Faith was unknown to Emma. Not the “faith” of organized religion, but actual faith. The substance of things hoped for and evidence of things not seen meant more than devotion to a mysterious God. For years she had believed the only person you could trust was yourself, but those hard-earned lessons of loneliness and betrayal _hadn’t_ given her trust in herself; they had only taught her not to trust others. Hook had, with a few words and a showing of unwavering faith and support during her quest for Henry, taught her the lesson that she needed: trust and faith in one’s self will give you the capacity for trust and faith in others.

“‘Course you did,” Hook said, smile bright and sincere. He looked altogether younger and Emma couldn’t help smiling either. She laughed, for probably the first time in weeks, and impulsively rushed Hook, her arms squeezing around his neck.

He was chuckling as he held her, swinging her about lightly.

“How did you know?” she asked when he set her down.

“All we needed was faith, trust, and pixie dust,” he said with a wink, brandishing the bottle, now empty, he’d gotten off Pan. “But the flying bit, love, that was all you. Now, Captain Swan,” he said, pulling her back over to the helm. “I believe we need a heading.”

“Second star to the right?” Emma guessed with a snort.

“And straight on ‘til morning,” he finished, looking at her quizzically. “But how did you know that?”

She smiled, still tingling with leftover awe and happiness, “Lucky guess.”

**Author's Note:**

> "Second Star to the Right" reference--I actually puzzled through whether it would be the same going back as coming in. And then I decided I didn't care 'cause MAGIC.
> 
> "To have faith is to have wings," "faith, trust, and pixie dust," and "second start to the right..." are all lifted from the works of J.M. Barrie.


End file.
